Follow The Red Brick Road
by regina-the-queen
Summary: A Case-y, possible Jisbon-y multi chapter thingy. Hope you like it :
1. Sleeping Pills

**Disclaimer- I just checked my legal papers, just in case, but very sadly, I do not own the mentalist :(**

**SPOILERS- Some subtle season 2 and 3 referances, but nothing too explicit, so you should be ok to read, even if you haven't watched the later series. Don't hate me if it does give anything away though! **

**A/N- This is my first fanfic so go easy on me :P That said I want to know what you think, so don't hesitate to constructively criticize :) This chapter is just to start it off, so it's a bit slow but I promise it'll get better, and more interesting later, if you keep reading. Hoping to update again by the end of the week, so keep an eye out, and I've got a few twists in mind. I also want to know whether to go down the Jisbon route, so tell me what you think on that front, and other wise, enjoy :D**

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><p>Teresa Lisbon had always been the organised one, the disciplined one, the born leader and the one who's always in control; of herself, others and the situation. Teresa Lisbon was the person she kept hidden away inside a shell that protected a much softer, more vulnerable self than the one she presented to the world.<p>

She had formed this shell, a solid brick wall after her mother had died, as a way of containing her grief, and in turn allowing her to push on through the hardships of life, including the following death of her father, and helping others to overcome _their_ hardships by eliminating the unknown, so they could move on. She built it to be impenetrable, unscalable and opaque.

No-one could touch her; no-one could hurt her.

_Then_, along came Patrick Jane. I know you just smiled; she did too, when she saw him for the first time, that knowing look and confident strut, and oh-so-arrogant smile. She was the first to turn up her nose at his ways of dealing with issues, his people skills and most of all his habit of putting paperwork on _her_ desk, for some stunt pulled on the off chance that it would reveal something useful. However, like so many others, she couldn't help feeling drawn to his charming nature and his almost childlike fascination with even the simplest of things. He made her smile.

Yet although she found him amusing at the best of times, he still managed to infuriate her no end, making her mad just as often. She couldn't help thinking he liked making her mad, he always had such a smug, yet fond look on his face when she flew into a rage because of something he'd done.

'Now now Lisbon, wasn't it worth it? I mean after all, I revealed the killer!' He'd say in such measured, cool tones it made her even angrier just for her scolding to have gone unheeded.

Yet it wasn't making her smile, or even making her annoyed that he seemed to enjoy the most. It was embarrassing her, no end. Patrick Jane could, and _did_ demolish her carefully constructed barricade until she was stripped bare of any defences, with just one glance or flippant comment. He turned the solid brickwork into crystal clear glass. Jane could see right through her. He was, after all a mentalist, but she didn't like it one bit.

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><p>Teresa Lisbon had always been the organised one, the disciplined one, the born leader and the one who's always in control; of herself, others and the situation. No-one was more surprised than she, when she found she was <em>not<em> in control of Patrick Jane, and that whenever he was around, she didn't feel in control of the situation either. No-one was more surprised than she, if she did something out of character, briefly taking away the hold she had over herself. No-one was more surprised than she, when she found that Patrick Jane _made_ her lose control, not only of the situation, but of her own self management; her brick wall. She figured that, her subconscious mind thought that there was no point holding up her defences around him, as he saw through them anyway, but the conscious, very _self_ conscious Lisbon wanted to try and keep _him_ of all people out of her head anyway, and didn't want failure to be for lack of trying. However, the conscious Lisbon couldn't seem to make her wall erect itself again, as it was the silent withdrawn side of her that had fabricated it in the first place. So she continued to be read explicitly by Jane, and being helpless to her actions towards him.

For that very reason, she couldn't help but show the disappointment and betrayal on her face when he had dismissively told her that _if_ the job at the CBI suddenly held no personal gain for revenge, there was no point in him being there. _Isn't the team- his friends a good reason to stay?_ She wanted to yell at him, and a little voice in the back of her head whispered; _you're not good enough for him. He doesn't care enough to stay for __**you**__._ And as much as she tried to rid the little voice's words from her head, they still ran bitterly in her thoughts, making the sinking feeling inside just that little bit more confusing.

The thing that puzzled her was; even if Jane _didn't_ care enough to stay for her, why should she care? Why _did_ she care whether he liked and cared about her or not? Yet even after she had mentally scolded herself, and purposely laid down some guidelines for his request to stay with the team, with _her_, and stopped herself from squealing and dancing in joy that he was continuing, she still felt that twinge whenever there was any indication of Jane's revenge; it reminded her that he wasn't here to help people find closure, or for the team, or for _her_, he was here for his wife, his child and Red John; to help _himself_ find closure. But, if he didn't care about her, even just a little bit, why did he find such pleasure in _embarrassing_ her all of the time? Why did he want to feel how her face felt when he was blind, if he didn't like what he saw when he _could_ see? But then again, if he _did_ like her, why would he set her up with Mashburn? Why would he still wear his wedding ring? But then _again_ if he _didn't_ like her, why did she see such beautiful relief and loving admiration in his eyes when she found him tied to that chair, with corpses on the floor and the ghost of Red John's presence looming over him. The thoughts raced around and around with counter argument after counter argument swaying the case from one conclusion to the other- _Teresa Lisbon; successful homicide investigator-Brings the murdered to justice, yet can't figure out if her consultant likes or dislikes her-_ She thought bitterly, the line in her head repeating in a very mockingly Jane-like voice.

'Lisbon?' A hand waved in front of her face, and a pair of startling blue eyes locked into her own unfocused green ones. Lisbon almost shot out of her seat as a motioning hand dragged her out of a day-dreamy contemplation by the very man of whom she was thinking. As her mind reluctantly resurfaced to reality, she saw the blond man's grin widen; 'Why _hello_ there! Nice of you to join me! I was beginning to think that I'd hypnotised you in my drug-induced sleep.' He raised an eyebrow as Lisbon blushed, tearing her gaze away from the pointed stare of a still rather sleepy man. He hadn't slept properly in days, and she could tell, so she'd dissolved some of her own sleeping pills in his tea, and left it in the kitchenette, hoping he'd find it so he'd get some rest. It was nice seeing him so peaceful for once. It was _not_ nice however, having to haul him from the kitchenette to the bullpen and onto his couch, as he had fallen asleep on his feet almost as soon as he'd taken the second swig of the hot brew. 'Cinnamon,' he said simply, supposedly reading her thoughts as usual. 'That's what gave you away, dragging me from there to my couch left ample supplies of your sent on me, which I immediately picked up on once I regained consciousness,' her blush deepened further as she imagined him sniffing his own clothes, the air around him to get a whiff of his attacker. She knew it was not beyond him.

He leaned forward, putting one hand on her desk using the other to lift her chin to force her to look at him and uttered a simple phrase that made Lisbon doubt _everything_ she'd been thinking earlier; 'thank you.' He said, then; 'It's nice to know you care,' those words, although innocent enough betrayed so much emotion. He hadn't slept for a reason and that reason combined with the lack of sleep was beginning to get to him. _She_ knew that.

Teresa Lisbon had always been the organised one, the disciplined one, the born leader and the one who's always in control; of herself, others and the situation. _Jane_ had always been the one to formulate the plan, the master of thoughts, the one to leap without looking, yet the one who's _always_ in control; of himself, others (especially Lisbon) and the situation. Red John made him lose control of the situation, when he had done something foolish. And now here he was again, losing control, this time of himself right where Lisbon could see him. She saw the surprise and humiliation in his eyes when he realised just how heartfelt those words had sounded, yet she still couldn't bring herself to do anything other than smile awkwardly and whisper;

'You're welcome.'

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><p>'Eureka,' Van Pelt muttered under her breath, scanning her eyes over the computer screen, committing the well deserved piece of useful information to her memory, after labouringly long hours of searching. It was late, Jane had left five minutes ago, Cho and Rigsby had left at five thirty- four hours ago. She knew Lisbon was working late, again; she was buried in paperwork after Jane's latest exploitation of some stuck-up rich individual that seemed to have various reasons to complain about him. Van Pelt stood up to go and tell Lisbon what she'd found, then she was definitely going home. Stretching her aching limbs from being hunched at her desk all day, she shook her head, wondering how Lisbon did it, practically every day; into work at seven and not leaving again sometimes until ten or eleven at night. Grace walked out of the bullpen, and knocked on her boss' office door, not waiting for a reply- knowing Lisbon would understand her wish to be leaving- she opened the door and stepped partially inside, breath hitching in her throat at what she saw. There was Jane, who had obviously <em>not<em> gone home, leaning over Lisbon's desk, with his hand cupping her cheek. And she was _letting_ him! Not only letting him, but actually smiling at him.

'Uh, Boss? Am I...Um…Should I come back later?' Van Pelt managed to stammer, and upon hearing her voice, Lisbon jumped out of her chair in surprise, and Jane twisted around to face Van Pelt, dropping his hand and stepping back a good two feet from Lisbon's desk- in what could almost be described as an acrobatic display- who was still standing up and looking awfully reddened. They both let their gazes fall to the floor, flushing embarrassedly. All three of them just stood there for several uncomfortable seconds, before Lisbon cleared her throat and said simply;

'No, its fine- what did you find?' before transforming miraculously back into "entirely professional Lisbon", and told Jane to wait for her on his couch in the bullpen. He slipped out silently.

Lisbon and Van Pelt stepped outside of her office once Grace had finished reeling off all the information she had found, but although Lisbon tried to make a sly escape towards the bullpen, Van Pelt still managed to stop her and ask the question, Lisbon was hoping she'd avoid;

'Um, Boss?' Reluctantly, Lisbon turned to face her 'rookie' agent. 'Back then, you and Jane, you're not…I mean, I don't want to sound rude but it seemed as though you two… I uh…Are you?' She trailed off helplessly, at loss as what to say. Luckily, Lisbon knew exactly what she was getting at and quickly nipped it in the bud,

'No! No no no no no! We uh… He…He's Jane! He was just being Jane, there's nothing there, I promise.' Lisbon stuttered hastily, getting more and more embarrassed as she spoke.

'Oh. Well, ok then, I'll see you tomorrow' she could tell Van Pelt was discomfited at being the one to bring it up, yet she knew both of them felt a bit better with a mutual understanding. They parted, Van Pelt heading towards the elevator, and Lisbon for the bullpen, to Jane's couch.

He sat up when he saw her and grinned. He seemed amused by the whole situation now that he'd had a chance to think it over.

'Hello again Lisbon,' he said cheerfully, 'as much as I'd love to continue our conversation, I think it's time you go home and catch some rest yourself. You've been so busy making sure _I_ get to sleep, that you failed to check your _own_ energy levels' he laughed as she suppressed a yawn and a protest of denial. 'Go home,' he smiled. Lisbon rolled her eyes.

'Actually, that's what I wanted to talk about. You see, I dissolved quite a few sleeping pills in your tea, so you'll be drowsy for quite a while. You won't be able to drive home.' She ignored his amused, quizzical look and continued, 'so I was wondering if you'd let me drive you home. I mean, I know you'd happily spend the night in the attic, but that makeshift bed really can't be comfortable, and think I'd worry if I didn't know for sure you got home safe…so, yeah, may I?' He seemed to consider it for a moment, then said what she least expected;

'No.' That's it. Just a simple "no". Lisbon was rather taken aback.

'Why not?' She retorted. He looked away.

'I, uh…re-decorated recently. I can't sleep with the smell of paint in the air, and if I do, I feel sick the next day.' He shook his head as he spoke, mentally kicking himself for the feeble excuse. Lisbon wasn't convinced either. She'd guessed at the real reason why he hadn't wanted her to drive him home; he didn't want her to know his address. She had a list of addresses of the victims of Red John, in case a visit was needed, and she could bet her last cent on him still living in his family's home. He didn't want her disapproval, despite his air of nonchalance. She was no mentalist, but she _was_ observant, and a good enough detective to work it out. Exasperated with his lack of co-operation and assumption that she wasn't smart enough to fathom the real reason, Lisbon blurted out the first thing that popped into her head, despite the consequences.

'Then let me drive you to my house, you can sleep in the spare room. I really want to be sure that you won't go hypnotising people during your drug-induced sleep,' she grinned at him, even though she was screaming at herself in her head, and as he grinned back at her, nodding enthusiastically at the chance to go in Teresa Lisbon's house again, she thought to herself; _What are you doing? You're inviting him into your __**home**__? Don't you remember how he was when he came to hypnotise you? He'll be able to know you inside and out before the __**hour**__ is up! And what about tomorrow? The team would get suspicious if you got to work at the same time! You know how much you hate being read by him, this is a huge mistake. __**Stop**__! Tell him to sleep on his couch! He'll be fine with his Elvis stain, mulling over the philosophies of life, and hypnotising houseflies!_ She ranted like this, until she found herself standing by her SUV, keys in hand.

'I can tell you're uncomfortable with this, but I really appreciate it, and I'll make no trouble, I _promise_,' said he, as he dumped his overnight bag- kept in HQ, just in case- into the boot of her car.

'No, no, don't worry, it's fine. It's what _any_ normal and decent human being would do; _right_?' Lisbon tried to act as though she were reassuring Jane of the situation, but really she was talking to herself more than him. She needed to convince herself that his words were sincere, now that there was no way she could bring herself to turn him away. Jane seemed to understand her worries, and just to prove his point, opened her car door for her, bowing in a comical yet mocking way before walking around to his side and stepping in. Lisbon sighed before turning on the engine. _This is __**such**__ a bad idea._

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><p><strong>Sorry, I know eveyone hates AN at the end but, just want to say thanks for reading! Again, please review, and tell me how you think the story should sway- I'm totally open to any suggestions :)**


	2. Nightmares

**Disclaimer- I thought we already went through this… No? Fine then... I, mstormw, do not own the mentalist. Hmpf, there, I said it…**

**A/N- A huge thank you to sherlockiantreky for proof reading and reviewing the previous chapter. And obviously a thank you for all those of you who have read the first chapter, and intend to stick by me through updates :) **

**I always thought a smug Jane and an angry Lisbon would be my favourite to write, but now I'm writing this story, I have to admit, putting Jane and Lisbon in awkward situations is a lot more fun ;) So be prepared for some cringes on their part, although I promise not to be too mean to them! :P **

**Oh and also, somebody pointed out something about my choice of language in the last chapter, so I thought I'd better explain that I am English, and I have no knowledge of American lingo, so I apologise in advance if I say something that makes no sense to those of you in the USA, as I'm sure I don't understand any American slang, so I don't expect any of you to know any of my English slang (though its great if you do) or if I use words that are distinctly different (e.g. Boot of a car, instead of trunk, as I believe it to be said in the USA). So yeah, sorry if any English-ness is in my writing, as it is guaranteed to be, as after all, the mentalist is an American program.**

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><p>'NO!' Lisbon jolted, sitting bolt upright as the sound of the own cry awoke her. She was shaking, goose bumps lined her arms, and there was a slick sheen of sweat covering her forehead. It took her a few moments to realise what had happened. Or rather, not happened. 'It was just a dream. Just a dream Teresa, no need to get worked up…' she muttered to herself under her breath as she brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and rocked back and forth like a child, battling with herself to bite back the tears that were threatening to spill. 'It's just a dream. Just a dream…' she repeated, over and over, trying to stay calm and not think about what she had seen in her sleep. She couldn't. 'Just a…' her voice broke out into a muffled sob, and she just sat there, curled up in a ball, knees to her chest, arms around them, and her head resting on top, weeping quietly to herself and the darkness.<p>

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><p>Jane had been lying on the bed hands behind his head, gazing at the ceiling in Lisbon's spare room when he first heard her talking. At first he'd thought she was just on the phone, but then he realised the time; 2:46 am, there was no way Lisbon would take a call at his time, unless it was work-related, and by the distressed tone of her voice, it was no work matter. He strained his ears to try and make out any words, but she didn't seem to be making much sense in what she was saying. He managed to pick out the word "no" several times along with "leave me alone," "don't" and "Jane." He sat up when he heard his name. She wasn't addressing him. She was calling him. He stood up hastily, still fully dressed, and hurried down the short corridor, past the bathroom but stopped at her door. He hadn't thought this through. Why would she call his name? Was there someone else in there? She sounded distraught. Was someone hurting her, and she was calling for help? What should he do? Jane deliberated these questions before concluding that he should slip in quietly, and hope to surprise any potential attacker. Turning the doorknob gently, and glancing inside, through a semi-open door, he found the room empty, aside from Lisbon herself, tossing, turning and groaning in mental anguish. Jane smiled at the thought of Lisbon saying his name in her sleep, but immediately became sombre again, as he questioned what he should do, yet again. He hated seeing her so obviously perturbed, but felt as though he would make things worse by stirring her.<p>

'To wake, or not to wake, that is the question,' he mumbled to himself as he watched the sleeping Lisbon frown, gasp and scream in slightly hushed tones, in her sleep. Finally, he decided he couldn't watch her suffer anymore, despite how he knew she would be angry and embarrassed. Yet just before he could touch her shoulder to shake her awake, she yelled again, louder than before, and shot up into a seated position, shocked, scared and on the brink of tears. He wanted to comfort her, but she hadn't seemed to notice his presence, so he withdrew his hand, and slowly backed away, careful not to provoke her attention. However, when her shoulders began to shake, and she started crying, curled up in a ball, she looked so alone, so vulnerable, so unguarded, that he felt a tug at his heart, and couldn't help but to snake his arms around her, to try and comfort her.

It didn't quite have that effect.

'Jane!' Lisbon shot backwards in surprise, _how long has he been here? _She thought, trying to recall a moment in which he could have come in. She immediately felt self conscious, embarrassed and has a huge urge to cover herself, despite the fact that she was wearing her "99 Lisbon" jersey and a pair of short shorts; more than adequate clothing for bed, plus he had seen her in it before, when she had arrested Dr. Carmen. She voiced her inner question out loud.

'I, uh…I heard you, talking in your sleep. I thought you were in trouble…You called my name. I thought you needed help, so…here I am…' he shrugged helplessly, 'I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry…' he tried to explain in a hurry, as he became more and more embarrassed by the fact that he'd just realised that he'd been gawking at the place where her jersey had slipped quite a way off of one shoulder. He sat on the edge of her bed, partly so he was facing away from her and couldn't stare, and partly because he felt uncomfortable being even taller than her than usual. 'You need to talk about it?'

'Talk about what?' she replied feebly, sniffing, and wiping her eyes.

'I'll take that as a no then…' Jane hated the thought of just letting it go, and leaving Lisbon beating herself up, but he knew protesting wouldn't get him anywhere, so said no more.

'Yeah, no it was a no…' Lisbon suddenly felt torn, despite the fact that she found it almost laughable to think of discussing anything even _remotely_ personal with Jane, she still felt the urge to say something, anything to make it seem as thought that was not the case. 'It's nothing, really. It was just a bad dream, it not even real, I just…' she trailed off. 'It just feels real when you're in it, you know?' she said helplessly, not expecting him to "know" at all, but couldn't find anything better to add. Jane stood. He bent down, brushed a stray tear from a cheek and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before stating simply;

'Yes. I do know.' Then he walked out. 'Goodnight Lisbon- if you need me, just give a yell.' After he had shut the door behind him, Jane lent against the door and shut his eyes, praying Lisbon wouldn't think badly of him for just leaving like that. _She probably wants to be alone anyway, she's tough, I'm sure she'll be fine…_ he tried to convince himself that he'd done the right thing.

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><p>Lisbon just sat, staring at the door after Jane left, a little shocked at his abruptness and the peck on the forehead, but still glad she didn't have to endure the embarrassment of crying in front of him anymore. She hated feeling vulnerable. She hated how self absorbed she had seemed, how insensitive, assuming Jane didn't have nightmares. He had more reason than her. She listened, forgetting for a moment about her nightmare, and instead focusing on the fact that she had not heard receding footsteps or the creak of the floor boards under the carpet in front of the bathroom door which annoyed her so much. Straining her ears, she managed to catch a shallow sigh, and quiet muttering, that she couldn't quite make out. He was still outside her door. Confused, she assumed he was just upset with her for being so inconsiderate, and was just in need of a little time to think before he went back to his room, to be completely separated. A sudden wave of shame and pity for the man, she stood up, meaning to go and apologise, she felt the rush of a headache pound into he temples. She suppressed a groan. She hated crying, or rather, the pain in her head and plentiful humiliation it supplied her with. Brushing away the tears that were still falling, and trying to suppress the shaking of her shoulders that her silent sobbing generated, she made her way to the door and hesitantly pulled it towards her. Jane must have been leaning on the door, as he stumbled backwards as his support gave way, making both people topple over, Jane crushing her petite form. Lisbon felt the rush of her breath escaping her, as the lump of a man tumbled down upon her.<p>

'Ah! Lisbon, I'm sorry, so sorry, I…Are you ok?' Jane stuttered, as he flushed red in a very un-Jane-like way, as scramble off of her, fast. They both sat on the floor, looking dazed

'I'm fine, I…oh god, what a way to start an apology, sorry about that, I didn't mean to make you fall on me…and uh, for…I'm sorry I was insensitive earlier, ok? I mean, I was so wrapped up in my own nightmare, I didn't even attempt to stop and consider yours.' Her words tumbled over each other, as she blurted out her request for forgiveness. Jane looked utterly shocked.

'Oh Lisbon. Come here,' he said, pulling her into a tight, slightly awkward yet oddly reassuring embrace. 'Don't you dare worry about it. I just meant that I understand, I can empathise with you, so that you knew you could talk to me and I'd listen, I wouldn't judge you or "try to help" in that patronising way that I know you hate, just listen, and if you needed, give advice, because I know how it feels.' It was odd for Lisbon to even register that it was Jane talking. Jane, talking about how he feels? In an indirect way, but still… She couldn't help it, her body shook all over again, and the tears started flowing, just because of the way he spoke to her. She pulled away from the hug, eyes looking anywhere but at him, face red with embarrassment.

'I can count on you not to tell anyone about this right? We're a team…' her voice cracked, and a sob escaped her lungs, as she tore herself away, standing up, scooting around Jane towards the door, heading for the bathroom. Jane just sat there watching forlornly, and shocked as he saw so much of himself in her at that moment. She looked so lost, just as he was when he lost his beloved wife and child. It was heart wrenching.

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><p>Lisbon closed and locked the door behind her as soon as she got into the bathroom. She lent her back to the door, and let herself slide down into a sitting position, much like the one she had adopted when she had woken up twenty minutes previous. She let the tears run freely, blubbing like a child, as the events of such a short period washed over her. Images of her dreams flashed before her, making her physically cringe and whimper in fear. Teresa Lisbon, strong, calm and elegant in her stature, her line of duty, was bawling her eyes out on her bathroom floor, with her consultant in the next room. She knew he could hear her; if he could hear her talking two rooms away, he could hear her loud sobbing with only one wall between them. But at that point in time, she didn't care. Her dreamt cries of anguish, for help, for <em>Jane,<em> echoed in her head, swirling around and around, making her shiver and flinch. She hated that Jane had seen her like this, despite how understanding he was. In fact, the way he was so nice about it, made it even worse; her shame and embarrassment was amplified when he was so lovely to her. She felt as though she didn't deserve it.

A small tap at the bathroom door almost made her jump out of her skin. She sniffed, trying to bite back the hiccups that had been created as a product of incontrollable weeping.

'Lisbon?...' Jane's voice was barely above a whisper, 'Teresa? Don't cry, everything's going to be okay.' The sound of him using her Christian name startled her a bit; he didn't call her Teresa very often. 'Listen to me Lisbon…Teresa, I know you're used to getting through this alone, but I can't stand seeing you like this. What would the others say, huh? You're the boss; you're the organised one, the disciplined one, the born leader and the one who's always in control, don't loose it on me now…Okay? How about you come out, and go back to bed, I'll get you some water and an aspirin for that headache, and then if you want to be left alone I won't object, if you want to talk, fine, whatever you want, just don't sit in there crying all night, its not good for your posture to sit on the floor for a long time. C'mon.' Lisbon heard him counting under his breath and she knew he knew exactly when she would speak. Dead on number six, she said;

'I'm not the boss. I mean, I am at work, but this is me…I don't mean all I do in my spare time is cry, I just, I don't want to have to be in control all the time…my job requires me to be calm all of the time, and sometimes, I feel as though I can't do that, but I do, because I have to, for you, the team, and the families…I just, I can't keep calm all of the time, or I'd explode, so this is me not calm… I guess you prefer the calm me…' she trailed off, not meaning to show how hurt she was at the thought. She knew Jane would pick up on it, but he gave no indication of doing so.

'No, no, no, don't get me wrong, I know, I understand, you can't lock it _all_ down, sometimes, something has to give way, right? Let me go get you that aspirin, I'll be back in a few minutes.' Lisbon smiled. Trust Jane to know she had a headache, and where to find the aspirin. She listened to his footsteps going down the stairs, then stood up, and walked over to the bathroom mirror. She looked awful. Splashing cold water on her face, she attempted to cool herself down a bit, and wash away the tear tracks down her cheeks.

Wandering back to the door, the tips of her hair brushing against her neck, wet from getting splashed, she unlocked the door, and quietly slipped back into her bedroom, being careful to step over the place in which she knew had creaky floorboard under the carpet, which annoyed her so much. Slipping back under the covers, she suddenly became aware of the pressing exhaustion, weighing down her every limb. She glanced at the clock beside her bed, 3:18 am, and groaned. She'd have to get up in less than three hours. Snuggling down under the covers, she listened to the sound of Jane pottering about in the kitchen beneath her, waiting for him to return.

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><p>Jane stuck his fingers under the tap, letting the water run for a while, until it was cold enough. He filled a glass and set it on the side. Wandering around, he looked in several cupboards, in search on aspirin. Now was no time to go poking around her apartment. He finally found it, kept along with other medical supplies on the top shelf of her crockery cupboard, stashed away in a family-sized biscuit box. He smiled, amused by this, somehow. Popping two of the tablets out of the casing, he picked up the glass on the side, and headed back towards the stairs, he noticed that the bathroom door was now open, so he walked past and gave a light tap on her bedroom door, then stepped inside. He smiled fondly at the dark head of hair sprawled across the pillow, as it was the only thing he could see of her, with the covers drawn right up to her nose. She was breathing deeply. He set the glass and two aspirin on her bedside table, and then sat himself down, on the floor, around the other side of her bed, leaning against it, intending to stay there, whether sleep came or not.<p>

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><p><strong>AN Thank you again to all who read and review, and also for baring with me on the time scale. Sorry for the disjointedness, but I wanted to get both of their opinions in this one, rather than mainly Lisbon, like in the last chapter. I will try to update faster next time! Please, as always, tell me what you think, I would live to hear your opinion, good or bad :)**


	3. Dreaming?

**Disclaimer- Do I really have to do this **_**again**_**? I hate the harsh reality of life; I do not own the Mentalist…Happy now? **

**A/N- I AM SOOO VERY VERY SORRY ABOUT THE TIME IT TOOK ME TO UPDATE. As usual, thank you to all who read and review, especially sherlockiantrecky, for giving constructive criticism about keeping Jane in character- which I hope I shall do better in this chapter. Note to self; it is **_**hard**_** trying to make Jane compassionate and helpful, **_**and**_**still Jane-like at the same time. I'm hoping that this one isn't quite so choppy as well, plus there's going to be a bit of case work going on; not revolving around it, it just makes the story more believable; you cant have them working at CBI, but not doing any case solving can you? I might add in some RJ stuff in later chapters too. Sorry again, for the time scale and the unbelievable short-ness of this chapter.**

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><p>Lisbon suppressed a groan and reached out groggily to turn off her alarm, which was screaming at her to get up at such a ridiculous time. 5:00 am; as usual. She sat up, still half asleep. She'd had such an odd dream, involving Jane being in her house, acting utterly out of character, comforting her after the nightmare. She almost laughed at the absurdity. Reluctantly, she crawled out of the warmth of her duvet, and padded into the bathroom, already feeling more awake as she stepped under the rush of water from her shower. She hummed contentedly, steam filling the small room, thinking that the days she has showers in the mornings instead of the evening always seem to be the days where she has to chase a criminal at high speed, tackle them to the ground and have to have a shower all over again when she came home. Lisbon stepped out of the shower cubicle, and towelled herself dry hurriedly, shivering a bit at the change in temperature. Wrapping the towel around herself, she scooped up her jersey, and headed back to her bedroom, still mulling over her odd dream. Well, it was a change from the usual she deliberated, glad that she'd actually slept through the night. Lisbon sighed, dropping the towel, to let it pool at her feet, and then rummaged through her underwear draw to try and find a bra that matched her knickers. Goose-bumps began to form on her arms again, so she pulled on the first corresponding pieces of underwear she found, then picked her way over to the wardrobe on the other side of her bedroom to find something suitable for work, humming as she walked. Yanking a white vest-top from a hanger, along with a black nautical blazer and black trousers, she chucked the clothes on the bed and slammed the wardrobe door shut.<p>

'Huh? What? I wasn't asleep, what'd I miss?' Jane jumped out of his skin when he heard the slamming of a door, and he stood up hurriedly, momentarily disorientated, believing that he was dozing on Lisbon's sofa in her office, waiting for her to re-appear from somewhere, and then realised that that was not the case. He looked around, confused. His eyes rested on the petite woman in only her underwear. 'Whoa!' he spun around, so that he was facing away from her, an uncharacteristic flush rising to his face. He had not seen that coming. Neither had she, apparently. She gave a slight squeal when she saw him, then dived for the towel, still on the floor, covering her sparsely dressed form.

'Jane! What in heavens name are you doing?' It was at that moment and only then that she realised that she had in fact _had_ the nightmare last night, and Jane _had_ comforted her. _Why? Oh yeah, I drugged him…_ she mentally cursed herself, then him, for the situation. 'Why are you in here?' she almost yelled at him. Jane was still facing away, hands over his eyes in a very "see no evil" way.

'I…You…Nightmare, I wanted to make sure I was here if you had another one, so I could wake you…' he trailed off, knowing that either way, she was utterly embarrassed, and that humiliation would vent as anger toward him. 'I…I'll…I'll just, uh…go.' He managed to stutter, and with one hand still over his eyes, and one hand feeling his way to the door, he somehow managed to bump into Lisbon. 'Oh! Sorry!' He exclaimed, but in a moment of bravery, reached out, and came into contact with a bare shoulder. He heard her sharp gasp, as he traced his fingers up her neck and onto her face.

'What are you doing?' She echoed herself from when he was temporarily blinded.

'I want to know what your face feels like when you're blushing,' he grinned, making her lip twitch upwards slightly. He peeked through his fingers. 'You're not mad with me are you?' he flinched as she squealed in a very un-Lisbon-ish way, and hit him for peeping at her, despite looking genuinely concerned, as though she were a ticking bomb strapped to his chest, threatening to explode at any moment.

'Could you please leave? Now.' She avoided his gaze, and scooted past him, dropping the towel and picking up her trousers, still lying on her bed. She was stopped however by what sounded like halfway between a gasp and a groan. She spun around. 'Jane! I thought…I…Wha-' Her breath hitched in her throat as Jane strode across the room, no longer embarrassed, and traced a thin red line that marked her skin, along one side of her midsection, just above her hip. She flinched, and goose-bumps rose across her stomach and down her arms.

'_That _close, huh? Why didn't you say anything?' said Jane, referring to the shot that was fired at Lisbon on the last case. She had claimed it was a close miss. Now he thought about it, what he took for shock and relief in her eyes must have been pain.

'There was no point. It's just a graze.' She mumbled, face flushing and eyes flickering from him then away from him again as she tried to figure out if he'd noticed her reaction to his touch. She prayed he hadn't. That would be the last straw.

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><p>Jane pretended he hadn't seen the goose-bumps, or the unconscious shiver, or the sudden dilation of her pupils, despite how shocked he was. Most days, he would have teased her about it, but he told himself that now was not a good time to bring it up, that she was already embarrassed, and as much as he loved to see her blush, he didn't want to overstep the mark. Not this time. Instead, he scooped her into a hug.<p>

'I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to have to go through that nightmare again last night, despite whether it's a regular occurrence or not. I know. I meant to get up and leave before you woke, but things don't always work out as planned do they?' He whispered in her ear, breath tickling her neck, raising the hairs there.

'Jane I…' She didn't have time to finish her sentence because her phone suddenly rang, causing both of them to jump. 'Lisbon. Yes. Yes. Yes sir. I'll be there in forty minutes. Yes sir.' She hung up and addressed Jane; 'we've got a case.' Simple as that, Lisbon transformed back into her utterly professional self, humiliation masked as though forgotten, pulling on her clothes, shoes, and belt attaching her gun and handcuffs to it as she walked from the room and down the stairs. Jane followed.

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><p><strong>Okay people! Preview of next chapter! ;)<strong>

**'Ew! Jane! That's gross!' Lisbon recoiled, forgetting that Jane was about to blurt out something that she _really _did not want in the air. He grasped her shoulders, and drove her against the wall. She gasped as the impact forced the air from her lungs, and her eyes darkened. Jane leaned forwards, shaking her slightly...**

**Hahaha I feel evil, but that's what's coming up!**


	4. Daydreams

**WARNING- Some strong language, nothing too bad, it's just to stop the easily offended from bugging me.**

**Disclaimer- Sadly I do not own Si- I mean the Mentalist D:**

**A/N- Okay people it's going to get case-y! And maybe Jisbon-y. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! I need to know what kind of things you want to happen in further chapters. Just to clarify, anything **_**in italics **_**is the character's thoughts. As always, thank you to everyone who reads, especially Sherlockiantreky and xxmentalistxxspooksxx, I love you guys :D I HATE Mashburn, however (well, more the fact that he obstructs the Jisbon thing) so we've got a bit of him in there ;)**

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><p>'Talk to me.' Lisbon ordered, as she strode towards the crime scene with several men in tow including Rigsby, the local chief with his entourage of officers, and Jane.<p>

'Victim's a male, aged thirty-seven. His name is name's Michael Yarely. He has a wife named Fiona, who's twenty-eight, and an adopted six year-old daughter called…uh… Charlotte.' Rigsby recalled, glancing at Jane, to see if there was any reaction to the child's name. He saw none. Of _course_ he wouldn't. Who _could_ see past Jane's visage? No-one, apparently. Rigsby continued; 'The victim was found by one of the forestry commission park rangers, who was putting signs on trees as a protest for the road that is supposed to be built through here soon, her name is Gabrielle Liska, she's being talked to over there…' Rigsby motioned to where a local police officer was trying to get a very pale, shaken-up girl to recount the event. 'Also, the victim appears to have been moved, there are clear signs that show he's been dragged, here, see?' Pointing to a track of squashed down leaves in between the trees, Rigsby lead Lisbon to where the corpse lay, sprawled out on the floor, face up. Jane stepped forward. It was _his_ time to shine. He bent down, examining the man's fingernails, the lining inside his jacket, his wedding ring.

'He's a wealthy businessman, in a company that deals with stock exchange. His marriage is unhappy, possibly on the verge of divorce, his wife married him for money, when her child was still a baby, who never knew her real father, he married her because she was pretty and he wanted children.' The bewildered expression on all of their faces was enough. His smile widened in smug arrogance. _My Goodness, I didn't think they'd be __**that**__ unobservant…how boring their little heads must be,_ Jane mused; waiting for the question he knew was coming. Lisbon sighed, rolling her eyes.

'Are you done?' Okay, it wasn't _that_ question. His eyes dimmed, gleeful spark extinguished, as Lisbon turned her back on him, and yelled over to the forensics that they could do their stuff now. This is not the way he wanted it to go. Despite the fact that Lisbon was being utterly professional, the fact that she wasn't even the slightest bit interested in how he had figured out the information about Yarely, meant that she was still embarrassed about earlier, she was going to avoid him, and that was her way of telling him not to push his luck today. Too bad, it was in his nature to push boundaries. He just wouldn't be Jane if he didn't. _Plus, _he thought, _I've found a new snippet that I don't know about Lisbon, so I won't rest until I know what haunts her dreams, what made her call for help. I don't want her going through that. _He knew that even if he did manage to get her to open up to him, there was no way she would let him help her. Ever. His heart sank at the thought. He really did want to help, but for that to be even remotely possible, he would have to do things that would really annoy her…

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><p>The door opened, and Rigsby stopped in his tracks. He had not so much as glanced at another woman since he had clapped eyes on Van Pelt, and whether they were together or not had never effected his devotion to her. This woman however, this woman drew his eyes to her in an instant, and it was Jane, who had to introduce both him and his colleague as members of the CBI.<p>

'oh, yes of course, come in.' She turned, motioning for them to follow, her golden hair just long enough to cascade over her shoulders, shimmering in the light, her little red dress just short enough to make Rigsby gawk after her. Jane elbowed him, and skipped forward grinning at his sudden loss of memory for Van Pelt.

'How did you know?' Rigsby hissed in his ear, as Jane examined the immaculate halls whilst still following Fiona Yarely to her living room.

'Hm?' he turned.

'At the crime scene, you said she was pretty, how did you know?' Rigsby nodded towards her, whilst muttering something about an understatement.

'Oh. Lucky guess.' Jane clapped Rigsby on the shoulder and winked, as he said it, stepping into the living room, and stood, looking around, in his usual "I'm Patrick Jane, and I can unravel your darkest secrets by the way your furniture is arranged" way. Rigsby grunted, and followed, taking a seat and trying to keep his thoughts on the job as he cursed drawing the short straw as to who tells the family. He waited for her to sit opposite him, knees almost touching.

'Mrs. Yarely, we found your husband this morning, he's dead, I'm sorry for your loss.' Straight, and to the point. Jane turned, watching her reaction. She blinked.

'I'm sorry?' she asked. Rigsby counted to five. He hated this part, the repeating, the shock, the crying.

'Your husband, Mr Michael Yarely, was found this morning, with his head smashed in. I'm sorry.' Rigsby tried to hold in his discomfort, whilst at the same time watching as the light died from her eyes, and she turned pale. He patted her knee awkwardly as she broke into muffled sobs.

'Excuse me?' Jane interrupted. Rigsby shot him a glare, as a warning, but Jane ignored it. Fiona looked up, eyes red. 'Please may I have a look at your wedding ring?'

'My…my wedding ring? I have just been told my husband's dead, and you want to see my wedding ring?' She stammered.

'Yes, if I may. Is that a problem? Jane retorted immediately. She gave him an odd look, but then her eyes cast down.

'No, of course not.' She hesitated, before working the ring off of her finger.

'Thank you,' Jane looked in her eyes as he took it from her, causing her to shift uncomfortably in her seat slightly. He examined the ring for a moment before returning it to her. 'There is something you need to tell us, but you don't know how to. You believe it may have something to do with your husband's death?' Shock flashed across her face, tears forgotten, and she glanced at her ring incredulously, in advance to placing it on the coffee table to her left. She shook her head in wonder.

'How did you know? I guess it doesn't matter… you're right. You see, my daughter, Charlotte, she… she's disappeared.'

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><p>Jane clapped his hands together.<p>

'This case just got interesting!' he grinned as he peeked his head around Lisbon's office door, and stepped inside.

'Jeez Jane! I…I thought I locked the door!' Lisbon stammered, flushing at the expression on Jane's face when he noticed that she was standing in the middle of the office with a dress on, trying to do the zip up at the back.

'You did, I picked the lock,' Jane walked over to her, swatting her defensive hands away, and slowly zipping up her dress for her, carefully, to make sure her hair, hanging in ringlets today, didn't catch.

'Why?' she retorted, angry and embarrassed to think that he could just invade her private space, anytime he wanted, and that he was so effortlessly touching her, as though it was normal, as though it was meant to be. She twisted away from his hands, hovering by her shoulder blades, and fished her high heels out from a bag by her desk, then lent against it to be able to put them on.

'Because you didn't answer when I asked why it was locked. You could have been unconscious for all I knew.' He grinned. He was just getting started. 'So, who's the lucky guy, eh? You look absolutely stunning.' He ducked as a stapler whistled past his ear. She was positively beetroot now.

'Shut up.'

'I'm serious, you look amazing…' his expression changed from a smug smile, to his concerned appearance, bending down to look at her face under her hair, due to her head being hung, red with embarrassment. 'It's Mashburn isn't it?' He said, without adornment. It wasn't really a question, and by her expression, he wouldn't have needed an answer anyway.

'Go to hell. Take a toothbrush.' She blushed deeper, folding her arms across her chest defensively.

'Which way is that?' Jane bantered, back to his usual self, spinning in circles, in an attempt to look lost. Lisbon raised an eyebrow, and then looked at her watch. She swore under her breath, before scooping up all of her things, and stating simply;

'I've got to go.' Jane caught her arm as she turned to open the door.

'Don't worry about it, you look beautiful. The dress matches your eyes perfectly. Plus, he really likes you…' Jane flinched as Lisbon whacked him on the arm with her handbag.

'Hush!' she pleaded, looking away, avoiding his gaze. His head tilted to the side slightly, trying to get her to look at him. His eyes widened, and he recoiled a little, pointing at her in disbelief, as she looked at him sideways from under her fringe, face flushed in a touch of shame.

'Oh! Oh, God, how did I not spot _that_! -' Jane exclaimed, as Lisbon struggled to cover his mouth. Her eyes were looking up at his, imploring him to be quiet, and his were locked down on hers, asking whether it was really necessary to clamp her hand over his mouth. _Although, she does look good all flustered,_ he thought. He licked her hand.

'Ew! Jane! That's gross!' Lisbon recoiled, forgetting that Jane was about to blurt out something that she _really _did not want in the air. He took the took the opportunity Jane grasped her shoulders, and drove her against the wall. She gasped as the impact forced the air from her lungs, and her eyes darkened. Jane leaned forwards, shaking her slightly.

'You slept with Mashburn?' He accused.

'No!' she immediately denied. _Why does he have to speak so loudly, oh god please let no-one have heard us…hang on, he makes it sound like a bad thing…_ Jane raised an eyebrow. She blushed. _Damn it, why does he make me do that? _

'Don't insult me Lisbon,' Jane stepped back, releasing her shoulders, and dropping his hands.

'I…I, I have to go. Just don't… never mind.' She stammered, yanking the door open, and walking out, leaving Jane in utter shock. _Hmm, looks like there's more that I don't know about Lisbon than I thought…_

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><p>Lisbon sat in silence, pretending to listen to a very animated multi-millionaire. He had insisted on driving, despite the fact that he had had a few drinks. Lisbon felt tempted to arrest him, just to see what would happen, but fought against it<em>. He probably just doesn't want to be seen in a porch<em>_é__ as a passenger to a woman._ As soon as she thought it, she dismissed it; Walter wasn't that kind of guy was he? The more she thought, the more she realised she didn't know all that much about Walter Mashburn. He rested his hand on her knee, and she was immediately acutely aware of anything and everything he did. He'd looked so happy to see her again, hugging her tightly and commenting on how she looked, the gentleman. He had been really sweet all the way through the date. He had taken her to the most expensive restaurant in the area, with the most private, romantically lit table, and the finest food, that she'd not even dreamt of tasting, and all the while looking at her affectionately, his smile charming, the conversation constant, all attention towards her. Yet she just couldn't get a different face out of her head. An equally charming, equally good-looking, equally attentive face…A face that had looked so shocked and so worried about her just a few hours earlier…

Mashburn's hand traced up her calf lightly, and Lisbon tensed, forgetting for a moment that she was in a car with him, _not_ Patrick. Walter's hand ran up her thigh, stopping at the hem of her dress, which she now thought way too short, and back down again. She shivered.

'Aren't you supposed to be concentrating on driving?' Lisbon attempted to give Mashburn a mental shove that meant "get off me" but he just grinned at her, not getting the message at all. It wasn't that she didn't like him, no, she really did, she was just preoccupied with what Jane had said, as though he thought that her sleeping with Mashburn was some sort of crime.

When they arrived at Lisbon's place, she suddenly felt self-conscious of it; Walter wasn't used to being in a house that didn't cost a ridiculous amount of money, and it made her hesitate when it came to taking out her keys. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, Mashburn got completely the wrong idea about why this was. His fingers wandered up and down her bare arm, the other hand looped around her waist, gently pulling her towards him. He kissed her slowly, softly, yet persistently, as though to say that he wasn't going to pressure her, yet at the same time trying to provoke a response. Despite the fact that what he thought she was implying couldn't have been further from the truth, Lisbon found her lips moving in sync with his. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she let her hands meander up his back to his neck, his hair… Lisbon pulled away, disgusted with herself.

'Teresa?' Mashburn whispered against her hair in confusion. Lisbon avoided his gaze, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. 'What's the matter?' Walter lifted her chin to make her look at him, and Lisbon immediately thought of the day before, when Jane had done exactly the same thing. He kissed her softly, making her face inflame even more. _Okay, not exactly the same thing..._ Walter looked at her confusedly; silently asking why kissing made her so embarrassed. 'Teresa?' he said again, 'What is it?' he hugged her, just tall enough to rest his head on top of her head. Just like Jane… _Stop thinking about bloody Jane, you idiot!_ She cursed herself.

'It's nothing; do you want to come in for a while?' Lisbon distracted him by asking the question she knew he'd wanted to hear the most all night. His face lit up, and she unlocked the door, apologising for the mess, much as she had done when Jane had first stepped into her private world. _Shut the_ f_uck up Teresa! Why do you have to link everything back to him? Just stop it, okay? _While Mashburn was looking at the pictures on her wall in approval, much as Ja-_Seriously now, just quit it, _Lisbon turned and shut the door, locking it. Suddenly, Walter was there, standing behind her, whispering in her ear, hands on her hips. Goosebumps rose on her neck as his breath hit her, and she turned to face him. Alost immediately his lips were on hers, pulling her closer, and pinning her against the front door. Teresa broke away, and put her hands on his chest, to create a small gap between them.

'You know, technically this is our first date…' She whispered huskily, hoping he wouldn't get too offended. She was still appalled at the fact that she had expected his hair to be golden curls, rather than the spiky, shortness of reality, when he had kissed her earlier. _Damn it, Damn it, Damn it! Why do you have to keep mucking things up eh? Stupid, arrogant prick. You worm your way into my head, and now you ruined my night by making me think I was kissing you! Why, why, why, why, why? Sh_e looked at the man in front of her. She didn't even _like_ Jane, he made her work incredibly difficult, and he embarrassed her, annoyed her and undermined her at every turn. This man in front of her, _he_ was charming, focused on her, relatively handsome, and had _the_ most heart-melting smile. _Oh, screw it._ She had only ever instigated any sort of affection towards him once; an "I'm sorry I have to leave" kiss. Nothing like this one. Her arms wound around his neck, and he looked shocked for a moment before responding. Somehow, Walter managed to steer Lisbon to her sofa, the top of which dug into her back, as he lent against her slightly. His hands ran up and down her sides lightly, causing her to shiver. Hers were in his hair, partially to prove to herself that it was just an honest mistake earlier. Despite that fact the Mashburn was doing his best to distract her, Lisbon was still acutely aware of her surroundings. This meant that it didn't go unnoticed when she heard a faint whistling stemming from in the kitchen. Unfortunately, although she was aware of it, her mind was too fuzzy to do anything about it, so it wasn't until she spotted a golden headed devil over Walter's shoulder that her mind actually registered what was going on. _Oh shit._ She shoved Walter away, who stumbled backwards in confusion, and then she grabbed her gun off of the coffee table and aimed at Jane…

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><p><strong>AN – I am soooooo sorry for being so mean, but it was shaping up to be incredibly long, and this was the only place I could cut it down from. Please forgive me!**


	5. Daydreams Part 2

**WARNING- Some strong language, nothing too bad, it's just to stop the easily offended from bugging me.**

**Disclaimer- Meh. You already know the answer to that one, bastard.**

**A/N- Okay, I'm sorry for leaving it at a cliff hanger, but I really couldn't find a different place to cut it… **

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><p>It wasn't until she spotted a golden headed devil over Walter's shoulder that her mind actually registered what was going on. <em>Oh shit.<em> She shoved Walter away, who stumbled backwards in confusion, and then she grabbed her gun off of the coffee table and aimed at Jane.

'WOAH! God, Lisbon!' Jane ducked, flinching away from the weapon.

'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?' Lisbon screamed at him, ignoring the bewildered Mashburn. Jane indicated to the mug in his hand.

'I was making tea…and coffee for you of course.' He nodded to Mashburn 'How's it going?' Lisbon's rage bubbled over.

'HOW'S IT GOING? I'LL TELLING YOU HOW IT'S FUCKING GOING, YOU BROKE INTO MY FRIGGIN' HOUSE _THAT'S_ HOW IT'S GOING! She exhaled, counting to ten. Her voice dropped, so that it was barely audible. Jane knew that she was even more dangerous when this tone of voice took command. 'Get out. Just, leave. Go.' She waved towards the door. Jane tried to protest, but knew he was beyond pushing his luck. He slowly made his way to the door under the watchful eye of an angry Lisbon. One she heard the door click shut, Lisbon turned to Mashburn, throwing her gun onto the sofa. 'I'm so sorry. I had no idea… I just… I need you to leave, now please. I'm sorry. Thank you for the date, it was great.' She showed him to the door, and stood on tiptoes to peck him on the lips. 'I'll see you around.'

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><p>Once he had gone, Lisbon sat, in shock in her armchair, the humiliation, anger and disbelief suddenly foremost on her mind, too shaken to cry. She groaned, <em>I need coffee…<em> She made her way to the kitchen, and spotted the cup of coffee that she'd forgotten about, the one Jane had made. Beside it, there was a note; "_Hope the date went well, thought you may want this, call me later :)"._ He had expected to be gone by the time she got back, she realised. He had never meant to disrupt on purpose. She sighed. She felt guilty for blowing up on him so badly, but it had just been her first reaction. Jane catching her making out was bad enough. Jane catching her making out with Mashburn was even worse. Jane invading her private space and catching her making out with Mashburn was just simply horrific. Lisbon decided it was best if she rang Jane to apologise. Picking up her cell phone, she dialled the only number she knew off by heart, not including the CBI and her own number. He picked up after the third ring.

'Hi Lisbon, look I'm sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to make you angry, I just-' Lisbon cut him off.

'Don't worry about it, yes you were out of hand, but I over-reacted. I'm sorry…' Now that she'd said the only thing she'd planned to, Lisbon couldn't think of anything else to talk about.

'Look, Lisbon, I was planning on asking you earlier, but the whole date thing kind of ruined it, um…Can I come over? Because, I can tell the nightmares are a regular thing, and I wondered if I could help…'

No, no no, I'm fine.' Lisbon assured him hurriedly. The doorbell rang.

'Are you sure?' Jane's voice came through the receiver.

'yes, yes, I'm sure. Hang on a sec…' Lisbon pulled open the door, and Jane stood on the step, phone to his ear.

'Are you sure, you're sure?' Lisbon heard him through the phone as well as normally. He grinned, and she rolled her eyes.

'I'll call you back,' she bantered, and hung up the phone. 'I guess you'd better come in then…How long have you been there?' Lisbon wandered into the kitchen, to re-boil the kettle

'I never left. By the way, leaving your spare key under the door mat is not the smartest idea you've ever had.'

'Screw you' Lisbon muttered, pouring the milk into Jane's mug, and topping it up with boiling water.

'Did you just say you wanted to screw me?' Jane joked, 'and here I thought you were hopelessly devoted to our dear Walter.' He smirked. Lisbon huffed, blushing slightly.

'You do know you're not off the hook right?' she passed him his tea, and he took a sip, in his usual critical fashion, ignoring her comment. Lisbon rolled her eyes at Jane's disapproving look. She knew what was coming.

'Tastes weird,' both said, Lisbon in her best "whiny" voice. Jane raised an eyebrow.

'Am I really that predictable? Maybe I should create a crash course for tea-making; Jane style!' Lisbon laughed.

'Literally! We'd all have to wear helmets to stop you from knocking us out when we get it "wrong".' She retorted, finding her sudden chatting and giggling phase was because she was embarrassed, and nervous. Jane looked at her funnily

'Are you ok Lisbon, you seem…jittery.' He looked concerned.

'No, no I'm fine. Just thinking about Walter… I mean, our date.' Lisbon mentally kicked herself. _Oh well, he would have been able to tell if I'm lying anyway, _she conceded. Jane sniggered. She glared at him. They had a staring contest. Jane won.

'So, about these nightmares of yours…' Lisbon immediately closed up. There was no way she was going to talk about them. 'It's ok, I don't expect you to tell me what they are, I was just going to say, that I have a way to help stop them.' Lisbon looked at him sideways, curious. Then she twigged.

'Oh no! No way! I am _not_ letting you inside my head again. Ever. Forget about it. Last time you made me tell you things I did _not_ want to tell you!' she shook her head vigorously.

'Like what?' Jane pressed.

'How I dance to the spice girls CD and that I think that guy in the mail room is hot. How do I know you won't make me tell you what my dreams are about?' Lisbon blushed.

'The thing with hypnotism is you can never do anything you don't want to do, so if you really don't want me to know, I can't force you. Plus, if it really means that much to you, I won't even ask. The thing with the CD is that, when your guard is totally let down, you are susceptible to telling the truth to specific questions, and with the guy in the mailroom, when under hypnosis, if you want to say something to someone, you will say it, no matter who it is. I guess I wasn't your choice, but you probably wanted someone to tell so you could gawk at him together.' He grinned at her reddening cheeks. 'I can guide you whilst under hypnotism, but ultimately you get rid of the nightmare yourself. So… will you let me?' Lisbon sighed. The nightmares really haunted her, and she was tempted, but her trust for Jane wasn't good at the best of times…

'Fine, but please don't do anything I wouldn't want you to, ok?' Jane's face lit up, with pride in her confidence.

'You won't regret it, I promise.' Said he. 'Okay, for this to work though, you have to be utterly relaxed. You have to feel as though you are on the edge of drifting into sleep. For this to work, you have to let everything on your mind go, let all your stress melt away. You have to trust me. Look at me Lisbon, you have to trust me, and do as I say. You have to feel utterly safe, and calm, and relaxed. Good.' Jane waved a hand in front of her face. _Too easy…_ 'Right, now imagine a flight of stairs. Imagine yourself at the top of these stairs, walking down, slowly, breathing in and out, counting down from one-hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, just keep on going down those steps, feeling more secure with each step. And now you've reached the bottom; the ultimate place of calm.'

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><p>The imaginary Teresa Lisbon stood in a hallway with many doors at the bottom of the staircase. She flicked a switch, and lights came on, walls and doors changed colour to accommodate her tastes, and make it seem friendlier. A voice echoed throughout the corridor, a calm, peaceful, trustworthy voice that guided her through the twisting maze of her mind. Signs materialised on each door, making trial and error unnecessary. She followed the voice's instructions and proceeded to open a door marked "dreams". The new hall Teresa found herself in did not need re-decoration. There was a light blue wall to her left, and a stormy grey wall to her right. She needed no signs. She stood in front of the only door on the right and knew immediately that it was the only one that mattered.<p>

'Now Lisbon, you are at the door of your nightmare. Imagine a peephole on the door.' A peephole appeared. 'And take a look at what's inside.' Even the psychological version of Teresa hesitated. 'Don't be scared. You're in a trance state. Nothing can happen to you.' She looked through the peephole, for a moment, gave a muffled cry and stumbled backwards.

'It looks so real…' her voice echoed more than she thought it would, the words not coming from her inside self, but the real one. An admission of terror, that would have made her blush if not under hypnosis. 'Don't worry, Teresa, everything is fine, now… Imagine a box.' A cardboard box appeared. 'Make it big, and strong.' The box became metal, and three times the size of the small woman. 'Good, now imagine a padlock on the door, and imagine you have the key.' A huge padlock the size of her fist clamped itself on the door, and the key hung, weighted on her pendant. 'You don't have to go inside, Lisbon; all you have to do it unlock the door, and push the box inside.' She did so, slowly, and covered her eyes as she slid the box into the havoc of her night-time thoughts, and slammed the door shut. 'Well done, you're doing so well, look through the peephole again.' The box stood in the centre of a white room, quivering slightly. She crept inside of her own accord. Lisbon created welding equipment, and sealed the lid shut, and then dragged it back out of the door. She knew what to do now. Conjuring a handle on the box, she dragged it around the maze of her mind, until she came to a huge wooden door. Upon opening it, it became apparent that it was the dungeon of her mind, where things she didn't want clouding her head went. The box flew down stone step, making an echoing clatter. The door was bolted and padlocked with the fist sized one fabricated up earlier. As fast as she could, imaginary Teresa raced back to the "nightmare" door and created a new padlock with no key. She took the key for the dungeon off of her pendant, and placed it in the white room, then used the padlock with no key to seal the door shut. 'Well done Lisbon, that's amazing.' Jane went to touch her forehead; the trigger.

'Wait.' Jane stopped. Psychological Lisbon, in a moment of spontaneity, threw open all of the doors on the blue side of the corridor; the good dreams. All of her dreams Lisbon had ever had that were classed as "sweet" swirled out of the doors, pooling into the corridor and surrounded the imaginary Lisbon. She smiled. Then Jane touched her forehead.

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><p>As she resurfaced, she became aware of the approving look on Jane's face.<p>

'Lisbon, you were great!' Jane exclaimed.

'You could see?' She asked

'No, but you told me what you were doing throughout the whole time; you couldn't hear yourself? Hmm, interesting.' Lisbon beamed at him, totally forgetting their earlier spat, and pulled him into an unexpected hug.

'Thank you.' She whispered in his ear, before sitting back in the chair, blushing a little.

'Don't thank me, you did it, not me, plus we don't know if it worked yet.' He laughed at the yawn Lisbon was trying to stifle. 'I bet you feel exhausted now.'

'Yeah, I do. What's the time? My Goodness! Half past one! But, Walter and I got back here at twenty past ten… how long did that take?' Lisbon stared at Jane in disbelief.

'Just under three hours. No wonder you're tired.' Jane smiled.

'You sat here for three hours? Wow. I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to keep you up. The spare room is still made up if you want to stay again tonight. It's a bit of a hassle having to drive home at this hour.' Jane thanked her, and both retired, as although they didn't know it yet, the next day was going to be a long one.

'Goodnight.' Lisbon whispered from two rooms away.

'Goodnight' Jane whispered from two rooms away. Yet neither one heard the other.

For the first time in uncountable years, Lisbon slept undisturbed.

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><p><strong>AN-Thank you for being so patient, I love you guys, please review!**


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